We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times

Amy Winehouse.
 

So, this is it? The highest point of my career? The pinnacle of my success?

Can’t say I didn’t see this coming, there had been enough proof that this was coming sooner or later, just not as fast as I expected. I always pictured those famous people that earned their rights to be printed on papers everyday and get their face printed on the side of a wall to have come from years and years of hardwork. Not that I didn’t have that experient-hey, I’ve been in the industry for what, 8 years now?- it’s just, well I thought it would have resulted in a more fulfilling and satisfied feeling. Almost like you had the whole world at your palms at that point.

I didn’t.

Sure, random people come up to me frequently to congratulate me on my success and of course, a bunch of aspiring idols would just suddenly appear and label me as their new king, their new role model. It was an everyday thing now, something I’d slowly grown used to. Somehow, without me knowing or even intending to, I had in some way become a benchmark for rookies and people still striving in the entertainment industry as their aim to ultimate stardom. No, seriously, that fact had actually been printed in several magazines in black and white. REPRESENTATIVE OF IDOL STARS, and all those other titles that the people managed to think of in their useless time.

 I mean, I definitely don’t mind. But it just doesn’t give me any sense of proudness that they assumed it did.

Cause’ it didn’t.

Maybe all of this can be one of the reasons to explain why I’m out on the streets at 11:00 p.m. with-of course- a bottle of beer in my hand and not one kind of identification that who at least gurantee a safe trip home later. I was just going with the rush. Following whatever my head tells me to. And right now, it is weighing the pros and cons of entering the club that I’m currently standing outside of.

I raised my bottle up and feel the cold liquid flow down my throat, the numbing feeling a familiar one as it makes its trip down. I managed to turn around to find for any snooping cameras trailing behind me, trying to get some candid photos of me drinking outside the bar. Now that, that would surely get people’s attention on the front cover of the newspaper tomorrow morning. Better than all those damn political news that nobody cares about.

I almost chucked out the bottle in my hand when I suddenly realized how whimpish I was acting. How could I? I am actually still worry for my image. Could it be true? With that thought, I let out a loud self-deprecating laugh. The sound cruel even to my own ears.

Do I really care that another bad tabloid news on JUNG YONGHWA would come out tomorrow, and I would get a call at six in morning from the president of my management? Maybe I do, but that didn’t mean I would stop. If they want a reason for my actions, there isn’t one. It’s the people’s own fault for digging too much into the mask we idols try so hard to wear everyday. And right now, I could care less if mine falls off.

Guess, one more ugly photo wouldn’t hurt the collection, right?

I pushed the double-sided doors opened with a might fueled with adrenaline more than the alcholic rush. Along the wears and tears of idol life, I had somehow trained myself to be very well at holding up my liquor. It was a gift the guys said. And they are now.

“Hey, what took you so long, buddy?” Heechul hyung came over with his eyes closed and more than one lipstick stain on his neck. He had his arms over my shoulder and was unconsiously leaning against me then.

“What do you mean? I never even came here before.”

He smiled with lazy eyes and spoke in a smooth voice. “That’s what I meant.”

I laughed.

“Come on over,” He flinged his arm in a sort of wave to follow him, “and join the others.” He walked off, his legs unable to support him the whole time because he almost fall off his feet a few times along the way. But he still got his way out of the throng of dancing people rather quickly, well quick enough that I almost got squashed trying to keep up with him.

“Guys, meet Jung Yonghwa.” Heechul announced grandly once we reached the back of the club, near the bar. He then, relunctantly falls onto one of the purple plush beanbags.

“You didn’t need to introduce, we know well enough who this is.” Seongho of MBLAQ, stood up and caught me in an awkward hug before plopping back down again.

“Well I didn’t mean you, dumb head. I meant those other’s that don’t know him.” He scolded back. “Though, I doubt there is even more than 10 people here that doesn’t.” For a minute there, I almost sense a kind of distaste coming from Heechul hyung and also a flash of negativity in his eyes as he looked at me. Anger? Protest? But it disappear before I could fully identify it. With a short span of one second, it was already replaced with a snide remark towards someone else’s words.

I didn’t know what to do so I just stood there. Like a scarecrow or a sculpture with an uncomfortable, polite smile on my face.  

After a while, Heechul looked at me and saw that I was still standing there stiffly, “Got a stick between your legs. Come sit!” Then someone hooked their legs onto mine and pulled and the next thing I knew, I was falling.

How did this even happen? Me being here in a club and hanging out with this bunch of drunkards, what real excuse do I have?

All those thoughts were going through my head before the second where my face comes into contact with the floor and I end up under a plastic surgeon’s knife. Luckily, it didn’t happen and I ended up in the embrace of the beanbag.

I was about to spit a few colourful words to the person who tripped me when I was thrown a bottle of soju. My reflexes was fortunately still working and I caught it along with all the relax smile that was also thrown my way.

“Just relax, will ya? We’re in bar, what’s the worst that could happen!”

I should have just stood up from there, from their bad influnce just from that stupid statement.What’s the worst that could happpen in a club? The correct answer would be: a lot. I should have just left the club. But of course, I never did.

I stayed.

Rewrote this thing, I just had too! It was too darn messy and I wanted to get a fresh start on this story again! My aim is to finish the whole story by the end of next Friday! Fighting :)